


Trust

by Kamemor



Category: RWBY
Genre: Cross-Generational Friendship, Friendship, Gen, ruby tells ironwood the whole truth about salem and oz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamemor/pseuds/Kamemor
Summary: When Ruby can't sleep one night, she decides to try and tire herself out in the Atlas Academy training room. Except she finds General Ironwood apparently doing the same thing, and they end up talking about what's been keeping her up. Ruby finds herself having to hold back certain things because of the secrets she's keeping from Ironwood, so she starts to wonder if it might be the time to finally tell him everything...
Relationships: James Ironwood & Ruby Rose
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Genuary 2021





	Trust

Ruby couldn’t sleep. No matter how much she shifted position, adjusted her blanket, or tried to think peaceful thoughts, her brain stubbornly insisted on staying awake. If she wasn’t thinking about missions she was thinking about the Amity Project, or the upcoming election, or the relics or Cinder or Beacon or… She pressed her hands to her eyes and sighed. This wasn’t working.

She reached under her pillow and pulled out her Scroll, squinting against the glare as the screen lit up in order to show her the time. 2:37am. Ugh. Oh well, nothing else for it.

Kicking her blanket to the end of her bunk, she swung her feet out into the air and felt around for the ladder. As quietly as she could, so as not to wake any of the others, she climbed down to the floor and padded over to the wall with the built-in drawers and closet doors, shoving her Scroll in her pocket on the way. After a few attempts, she found the closet where she’d stashed her old boots, the ones that she’d trekked across Mistral in. She’d kept them for just this eventuality, since her new ones weren’t exactly compatible with pyjama pants.

Working mostly by feel in the low light, she shoved her feet into the chunky boots and laced them up. Then she grabbed her hood and belt from the back of a nearby chair and pulled those on over her pyjamas as well. It probably looked a little silly, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t as if anyone else would be up at this hour to see her. 

Walking even more carefully now, she tiptoed over to the weapons rack by the door, picked up Crescent Rose, and stowed her at the small of her back. She could just about make out her reflection in the mirror on the back of the door: one pyjama-clad Huntress, ready to do battle with insomnia by way of finding something to shoot until she tired herself out.

Checking one last time that she hadn’t accidentally woken up one of her teammates, she pushed the door open and stole out into the corridor. But once she’d passed the door to JNR and Oscar’s room, she stopped worrying about being quite so quiet. Most of the rooms on their corridor weren’t occupied, since they’d been put in a different part of the dorms to the regular Atlas Academy students.

As Ruby walked the familiar route down to the Academy training room, she thought about the rare occasions when she’d done this exact same thing back at Beacon. It wasn’t often that she’d been unable to sleep in those days, but she’d still managed to discover that tiring herself out on some sort of training usually did the trick. 

A few times, she passed AK drones standing guard or patrolling the corridors, but they didn’t pay her any attention. It was a little creepy, she had to admit. The drones were definitely one thing about Atlas that she was still getting used to. Even though she still thought any robots were pretty cool, something about their blank faceplates just… didn’t sit right with her. She found herself wondering how Penny felt about the AKs, and realised that she’d never asked. Was it strange, being around other robots that weren’t like her at all? Was it stranger than being around humans and Faunus?

Those thoughts managed to keep her occupied all the way to the main corridor that led to the training room, and Ruby found herself skipping slightly as she neared the big main doors. There was a marksmanship program that she’d been dying to try out, but hadn’t gotten a chance to yet because none of her teammates or friends were particularly big on accuracy. Even with the odd hour and the insomnia, getting to have a go at that one was an exciting prospect.

But when she got closer to the doors, she realised to her surprise that the screen next to them was active, indicating that the room was currently in use. Ruby frowned, puzzled. Who used the training room at this hour? Stopping in front of the panel, she tapped at the display and gasped in delighted surprise when it brought up the user profile of the person who’d activated the program: General Ironwood.

Excitedly, she quickly tapped her way through the other info screens, and her excitement only grew when she realised that in a fun coincidence the general was running the exact same marksmanship program she’d just been thinking about running herself. Well, the same basic program, at least. There was an asterisk next to the name indicating that he’d been changing the settings, but this basic display wouldn’t tell her exactly how. Another few taps brought Ruby to the screen that she was specifically looking for, which was the one that showed what privacy settings were active. To her delight, he’d locked the training room itself but not the viewing balcony, and that was practically an invitation.

Too curious to be at all disappointed that she’d been prevented from using the program herself, Ruby darted over to the door that led to the balcony, pulled it open, and whooshed up the stairs using her Semblance. But she stopped in the doorway at the top, peering around the wall in a way that kept her mostly hidden. She probably shouldn’t spy on someone like this, but how often did you get a chance to watch someone fighting when they didn’t know they were being observed?

And Ruby was desperate to see how Ironwood fought. Sure, she’d seen him shoot a few things back at Beacon, and Oscar had answered some of her rapid-fire barrage of questions about their training sessions together, but none of that really counted, not compared to seeing him properly in action for herself. She loved watching people fight. It told her more about them than any number of conversations ever did, because she was so much more at home with the language of combat than she tended to be with words.

Hearing gunfire but not able to see much from her position in the doorway, Ruby inched a little closer to the front of the balcony and the training room proper finally came into view. Immediately, she recognised one of the changes that Ironwood had made to the basic program. Rather than a simple environment of geometric blocks, the holographic landscape in the room resembled a section of city, complete with streets and buildings of various heights. There wasn’t a lot of detail to the holograms, but it looked a little familiar to Ruby. After a moment, she realised that it was supposed to be a section of Mantle, right up against the outer wall defenses.

Craning her neck and tracking the sound of gunfire, Ruby tried to spot Ironwood in the labyrinth of streets, but the angle was all wrong and the buildings kept blocking her view. She pulled a face, and was about to risk stepping out into the open when her Scroll beeped. She pulled it out, and her face lit up as she realised it had synced with the training room remote cameras. Ironwood had left them active, presumably so he could use their footage later to critique his own performance.

Ruby pulled up the feed from one of the camera drones, and now she finally got a decent view of Ironwood, running along one of the streets towards the camera. She started giggling. Rather than his uniform like she’d expected, he was wearing the exact same Atlas Academy pyjamas that she was, complete with boots and weapons belt over the top. It looked like she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t be bothered getting dressed again in the middle of the night, and it looked just as silly on him as she’d thought it probably looked on her.

Then her eyes caught another detail, and her giggling stopped as her eyebrows rose in surprise. Thanks to the short sleeves of his t-shirt, for the first time she was actually seeing the metal right arm that she’d always been pretty certain that he had.

It had been one of the first things she’d noticed about the general, after she’d stopped being distracted by the man’s ridiculous height. When they’d first met, he’d only been wearing the one glove. And then there was the metal implant in his forehead, which made putting two and two together pretty easy. But she’d never seen the arm itself, not until right now.

The prosthetic was clunkier than she’d expected, all angles rather than the streamlined organic shapes of Yang’s, and reminded her a lot of the AK droids. It looked at least a few generations behind the current technology, and that made her wonder how long he’d had it for. But even though it was clunky, it was still a nice design. Silver-white plating over a black internal structure, and blue lights on the back of the hand. It matched his gun, which she recognised from when he’d used it at Beacon, and somehow, it suited him.

But she was very quickly distracted from his arm and his clothes, because the simulation was in full swing and he was in the thick of the action. Switching to a drone camera with a wider view, Ruby watched delightedly as Ironwood sprinted through the streets, chasing the beeps of new targets as they activated and avoiding various obstacles. That was another thing that he’d changed about the program - in Ironwood’s version, things shot back.

The feed on Ruby’s Scroll had an option for a battlefield overview, and she switched over to it a few times just to get the lay of the land. In addition to the drone cameras, there were multiple flying drones with guns mounted on them, whizzing back and forth across the room and taking potshots at Ironwood. There were also a handful of AK droids patrolling the streets in predictable patterns. Ironwood was mostly avoiding them for now, but when one pair appeared around the corner directly ahead of him he just went straight through them. One of them was dropped from a few paces away with a shot that took its head clean off, and the other one took a blow from the butt of Ironwood’s gun that nearly split it in half. He didn’t even break stride.

“Whoa,” breathed Ruby.

The map showed that he was nearing a section of the mock city that she should be able to see properly from the balcony, so Ruby risked crossing over to the railing and scanning the room itself rather than just watching the camera feeds. A target lit up in one of the streets that she could see down into, this one the silhouette of a Sabyr projected in red on one of the holographic walls. Barely two seconds later, there was a BLAM from Ironwood’s huge pistol and the target buzzed green and disappeared. Ironwood came sprinting into the street, and took out two more Grimm targets before a different sounding beep had Ruby looking around for the new target. She quickly spotted that one of the flying drones had lit up red.

Ironwood had seen it too, and for the first time he reached down to his other holster and drew a black gun that Ruby hadn’t seen before. She looked down at the camera feed on her Scroll for a closer look, and saw that it was almost identical to his other gun, except where that one had white panelling this one had black. She was so busy admiring the design that she almost didn’t see what he did with it.

In a blast of purple energy, Ironwood shot the second gun into the ground behind him and shot up into the air. Ruby gasped. Gravity Dust! Twisting in midair, arcing gracefully above the hologram buildings, Ironwood took two shots at the agile drone and hit it with the second one, the recoil sending him spinning away towards a rolling landing on one of the rooftops. Another drone lit up as a target, and he chased after it, leaping the gaps between the buildings as he ran with only an occasional assist from either regular recoil or the Gravity Dust ammunition in his black gun.

Ruby had clamped a hand over her mouth to smother a cheer when he took out the first drone, but it turned out that she needn’t have bothered. A sudden change in direction from the current target caused Ironwood to turn to face the balcony, and suddenly he was looking directly at her. He skidded to a halt two rooftops away from the viewing balcony and stared up at her in surprise. Ruby gave him a sheepish wave. Busted.

But all Ironwood did was give her a small nod, square his shoulders, and then chase off after the drone again. Ruby blinked. Huh. It seemed like she’d been given his permission to stay. So she shrugged, and gave up all pretense of trying to hide as she watched him work his way through the rest of the program.

Because it really was impressive. Ironwood used both of his guns to great effect, catapulting himself around the mock city in graceful arcs and blasting target after target with calm efficiency. Yes, that was the word: efficient. Ironwood’s fighting style was efficient. He wasn’t flashy, even though his Gravity Dust recoil propulsion was impressive. Every shot had a purpose, and when things got too close to shoot like the AK droids from earlier he didn’t mess around with fancy moves. He just hit them, hard, or occasionally kicked them, and they didn’t get back up again.

From everything that she’d learned or observed about the general, Ruby wasn’t remotely surprised that he had such a straight-forward, no-nonsense fighting style. Oscar had told her that he favoured boxing moves like Yang, but without the flips and kicks that Yang also employed. Someone Ironwood’s size wouldn’t need moves like that to get the edge in a fight. He was big, he was strong, and he was fast, so he didn’t need to be fancy. 

And as far as she could tell, that extended to his choice of weapons as well. She saw no evidence of a transformation of any sort, so it seemed like his guns were just that: guns. Albeit ones that packed some serious heavy ammunition even without the use of Dust and were nearly as long as his forearm. But they were still remarkably basic compared to most of the weapons she was used to seeing. Ruby could never have used something that simple herself, but she still respected the classics. Especially in the hands of someone as skilled with them as Ironwood clearly was.

There was one fancy thing about the design of his guns, though, and it was the engraving work on the sides of the barrels, which she’d been able to get a good look at by pausing the feed from one of the drone cameras. It was beautiful work, and made what were otherwise quite solid, no-nonsense pistols look subtly elegant. The leafy swirls reminded her a little of the designs on Ozpin’s cane, and she wondered if those had been an inspiration or if it was just a coincidence.

Ruby had some time to think thoughts like that, because Ironwood’s training program continued for a further five minutes. She alternated between watching him directly and via the drone camera feeds, as the flashing targets led him all over the room and that meant that sometimes he was hidden behind the holographic buildings. But it was never for long, and often he’d reappear in a flash of purple light as he rose above the streets on the recoil from a gravity blast.

At one point, a stray flying drone managed to tag him from behind, and Ruby was surprised to see his Aura light up blue. She hadn’t expected the drones to be using full-power ammunition, but apparently they were, because you wouldn’t take a hit like that from training bolts. Any hit that your Aura visibly reacted to would hurt, too, but Ironwood barely seemed to notice it. He was too focused on the designated target drone ahead of him, although he did leap off of the rooftop and down into the street to use the buildings as cover.

Eventually, all that remained was the final pair of AK droids. Ruby watched as they lit up red, and pulled up the overview to watch as the blue dot representing Ironwood closed in on them. They were in one of the streets perpendicular to the viewing balcony, so she’d get a clear view of him taking them down. Closing the overview, she stared out across the room in anticipation.

Only a few seconds after they both lit up red, Ironwood came charging out of one of the cross streets, skidded around the corner and ran directly at the two AKs. They both raised their rifles and shot at him, but he dodged the blasts, then sailed up into the air with a shot from his black gun. He arced over the heads of the AKs, their rifle fire attempting to track him but they were too slow. When he reached the peak of his arc, Ironwood spun in the air, holstering his gravity gun and shifting to a two-handed grip on his white gun in one fluid movement. BLAM! One AK exploded into scrap metal, hit from directly above, and BLAM! The other one joined it in pieces on the floor.

When the last droid fell, the whole room lit up in a pulse of green, and the holographic buildings began to fade out from the top down. In a matter of seconds, all that was left of the mock cityscape was scattered robot parts and an empty space. Ironwood, propelled high into the air by the recoil, twisted gracefully in midair, holstered his gun and made a three-point landing almost dead in the centre of the room. This time, Ruby didn't bother to smother her cheer. 

Ironwood stood up and looked around, almost like he'd forgotten that she was there, and after a moment gave a small, sheepish sort of bow. Ruby whooshed down to the floor of the training room, landing directly in front of him. 

"That was  _ incredible _ , sir!" she enthused, bouncing up and down. "You're  _ really _ good!" Ironwood grinned, a little self-consciously. He was barely even breathing hard, although he was a little bit ruffled from all the exertion.

"Thank you, Ruby," he said, genuinely, then he smiled a little awkwardly. "I, uh, I wasn't expecting an audience at this time of night." 

“It is a bit of an odd time to be training,” said Ruby, grinning, knowing full well that she’d been planning on doing the same thing and Ironwood would easily be able to tell. The general shrugged, and the movement drew Ruby’s attention to a right shoulder which was clearly as mechanical as the rest of his arm. 

“I don’t get a lot of free time during the day,” he said. “Or training time in general, so I make the most of it when I can. And, uh, sometimes that’s in the middle of the night. When I’m in my pyjamas. Uh…” He looked self-consciously down at himself and rubbed the back of his neck with his metal hand. Ruby waved it off.

“Psshhh, I’m in my pyjamas too, it’s not weird.” Ironwood chuckled slightly at that, and so did she. 

“Fair enough,” he said. Then his look of amusement faded, and he looked at her with something approaching sympathy. “It looks like you couldn’t sleep either,” he said, gently. Ruby sighed.

“Yeah…” she admitted. “I’ve... got a lot on my mind.” Ironwood gave a small, bitter snort.

“Tell me about it…” he said, the exhaustion that always seemed to lurk behind his eyes creeping into his voice for a moment. He ran a hand through his hair, which was messier than usual, falling loosely across his forehead and partially hiding one of his eyes. The gesture just managed to mess it up further. He looked down at her, frowning slightly. “Do you…  _ want _ to tell me about it?” he asked, hesitantly. “Or, uh, I could just turn the room over to you so you can shoot things,” he added, almost awkwardly, his hand going back to the back of his neck. 

“That  _ was _ what I came down here to do,” she admitted. “But, uh… I wouldn’t mind talking. I mean, if you want to, that is.” She realised she’d put her own hand behind her head. Ironwood’s uncharacteristic awkwardness was catching, although admittedly she tended to be a bit like that anyway. She giggled slightly and put her hand down, and Ironwood grinned and did the same.

“Neither of us were really prepared to talk to someone else tonight, were we?” he said. Ruby giggled again.

“No, not really,” she said. “But I’d like to! I mean, if you would.” She found she was suddenly quite keen on talking to Ironwood, even though it wasn’t exactly what she’d planned to do with her evening. There was something about the informality of their current situation, the way he seemed as awkward and unsure of himself as she was, which was a far cry from how her interactions with him usually went. He’d dropped a guard that she hadn’t even realised that he usually put up. 

“I would like that,” said Ironwood, smiling again. 

“Great!” said Ruby, smiling back at him. He’d hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his pants rather than folding his arms behind his back like he usually did. It was a very casual stance, and it combined with the t-shirt and the messy hair to make him seem as un-general-like as she’d ever seen him. It was strange but… nice, somehow. He seemed more approachable, more human, even. Like someone who would genuinely listen to her worries and care about what she had to say.

“If we’re going to talk, I know a spot near here that’s got a great view out over the city,” he said. “It’s a little bit more scenic than just staring at the walls in here, if you don’t mind a short walk first.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Ruby. She was always keen to see new parts of the Academy.

“Excellent,” said Ironwood. “Um, follow me.” He made a beckoning sort of gesture and led the way to the main doors and then out into the corridors. Ruby had to trot to keep up with his very long stride, which he eventually noticed. He slowed down slightly. “Sorry.” Ruby waved it off. 

“You can’t help being tall,” she said. Ironwood smiled slightly, and they kept walking. As they did, Ruby stole a few glances at his right arm, trying not to get caught staring. She hadn’t expected it to go all the way to his shoulder, and in the dim lighting of the corridors she could see two more rectangles of blue light, like the ones on the back of his hand, glowing through his t-shirt on his upper chest. Was that just where the arm attached, or was part of his chest metal as well? It wasn’t her business, she knew, but she found herself being intensely curious about what had happened to him. Maybe one day she’d be able to ask him.

Eventually, they reached an external door which led out onto a small balcony. Ruby darted over to the railing, gasping appreciatively. Ironwood hadn’t been kidding when he said this spot had a great view. She could see out over the whole lower half of the city, and even see Mantle’s lights twinkling in the darkness beyond and below the edge. And the sky was just as impressive as the city, stretching far overhead and scattered with stars.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said Ironwood, standing beside her at the railing.

“Yeah…” breathed Ruby. “I don’t know how anyone here sleeps, when it’s so pretty at night.” Ironwood chuckled.

“I suppose they get used to it,” he said. “Although I can’t say I ever have.” He gestured at something behind Ruby. “Do you mind if we sit down?” She turned, and saw that there was an elegant bench in the middle of the balcony.

“I don’t mind,” she said, and followed Ironwood over to it. He sat down, a little heavily, at one side, leaving Ruby to take the spot to his left. She unhooked Crescent Rose and sat her on the floor, and then perched on the edge of the bench, craning her neck a little until she found a good angle from which to continue appreciating the view. “I can see why you like it up here,” she said. 

“It’s not my overall favourite spot in the Academy, but it’s one of the good ones,” said Ironwood. Ruby looked over at him.

“There are even better views?” He nodded, then grinned slightly, with a slight air of mischief that she’d never seen from him before. 

“The best one is from the top of the Academy spire, although I didn’t tell you that because students aren’t allowed up there,” he said, almost conspiratorially. Ruby giggled.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she said. She leaned back on the bench, staring up at the stars, and heard a creak and felt the bench move as Ironwood did the same.

“I’ve always loved the night sky,” he said, softly. “It’s one of the few compensations for insomnia.” Ruby nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. After a long moment, the bench creaked again as Ironwood shifted position. 

“So... you couldn’t sleep?” he asked, gently. Ruby sat forward again. Yeah, that was right, they’d come out here to talk, not stargaze. “Does that happen to you a lot?” She shook her head.

“Not usually. But, uh, it’s been a bit harder lately,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if it’s being here in Atlas with your weird daylight, or…” She trailed off.

“Or everything else,” Ironwood finished.

“Yeah.” She looked down at her hands. 

“I don’t think I’ve slept properly since the day that Oz first told me about Salem,” said Ironwood, his voice very quiet, like he almost hadn’t even intended to say it out loud. “It’s… a lot to handle. And I’ve had more than a decade to get used to the idea of her existence. It’s barely been a year for you, if that.”

“Yeah,” said Ruby. She looked over at Ironwood. “You’ve really not slept properly in ten years?” she asked. Ironwood laughed slightly, humourlessly.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve slept properly, Ruby. What with… one thing and another.” He flexed his metal fingers and shifted his shoulder as he said that.

“That’s awful,” said Ruby, and meant it. Ironwood looked up at her.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be the same for you,” he said, reaching over and giving her shoulder a brief, gentle squeeze with his left hand. “You’re full of hope, Ruby, and hope can be a very powerful thing.”

“I hope it can,” said Ruby, and they both smiled slightly at the feeble joke. 

“Is there one specific thing that’s worrying you?” Ironwood asked, after a pause. 

“I don’t know,” said Ruby. “I think it’s just everything at once. You’re right, it’s a lot. The things I know now, worrying about all the things that we don’t know yet, worrying about my friends, worrying about Uncle Qrow…” She trailed off, sighed. “Lots of worrying.”

“I know the feeling,” said Ironwood. He sighed too. “I wish Oz was here. Properly, I mean. I think that’s what’s worrying me most of all, the idea that something has gone wrong with him. That we might be at risk of losing him permanently. We… may not always have seen eye to eye, but he always seemed to have an answer.” He laughed again, still without much humour. “Even if I rarely agreed with those answers.”

“You argued a lot?” asked Ruby. This time Ironwood actually snorted.

“All the time,” he said. “Do you remember when you talked to us in Oz’s office, after Cinder infiltrated the CCT Tower?” Ruby nodded. “Well, we were arguing before you arrived, and we had another argument after you left. Oz… never agreed with me when it came to taking the direct approach. He’s always preferred spying, scouting, using people like Qrow. But I’m a soldier. I thought that was why I was useful to him, but time and again he’d shoot down my solutions and keep doing things his way. Eventually, I had enough.”

“So that’s why you took over security at the Vytal Festival,” said Ruby. 

“Yes,” said Ironwood. “Ozpin’s plan to let your team investigate the enemy hideout backfired, and Vale was invaded by Grimm.” His voice hardened. “And I couldn’t let that happen again.” Then he looked over at Ruby, who was biting her lip and frowning at the mention of that incident, and his expression softened again. “But I don’t blame you or your team,” he said, reaching over and putting a hand on her shoulder again. “You handled a mission that went south with skill and bravery beyond your years. You should be proud of yourselves for that. But it doesn’t change the fact that you should never have been put in that position.” He dropped his hand back into his lap, twisted his fingers together and stared down at them. “Oz has always put far too high demands on his students. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson after what that did to Qrow and his sister…” Ruby’s face fell again, twisting into a sad frown.

“And my mother,” she said. Ironwood looked up at her. “Uncle Qrow told me something recently that he hadn’t mentioned before,” she continued. “I knew that her team, that her and Qrow and Raven and my dad went on missions for Oz. But the mission when… when she died? She didn’t tell anyone where she was going or what she was doing, and I can’t help wondering if she lost faith in Oz too. That she tried to do something on her own because of it and that’s what got her killed.” She squeezed her hands into fists and pressed them against her legs, her voice getting higher and more emotional as she continued. “And Raven abandoned Yang because she didn’t want to be part of Oz’s fight anymore! And then there’s Uncle Qrow’s drinking! The more I think about it, the more I realise how much being part of his plans has hurt my family! And-!” But she cut herself off, realising that she’d been just about to reveal part of the truth to Ironwood, that Oz didn’t have a plan to defeat Salem at all. The truth that she was still keeping a secret from him. 

“And what?” prompted Ironwood, gently. Ruby shook her head.

“Nothing,” she said. But she felt the stabbing hypocrisy as she said it, realised she was doing to Ironwood exactly what Oz had done to them, and suddenly she wanted to tell him everything. He was sitting there next to her, being kind and understanding and telling her things she was pretty sure he didn’t usually admit, and she couldn’t keep on hiding things from him. It wasn’t fair. 

But there was a reason she’d hesitated, that evening in his office. Worries she had about Ironwood himself, about what he might do if he learned the full truth. Qrow punching Oscar flashed into her mind along with the glimpses she’d seen of Ironwood’s own temper and the way he was prone to overreacting… But no. She had to try and trust him, to be better than Oz had been. She owed him that much.

“Why do you want to tell everyone the truth?” she asked. Ironwood blinked at the apparent non sequitur. “I mean, look what knowing has done to us, to the people we care about. Do you really think everyone is better off knowing, when the truth is so awful?” 

“I do,” said Ironwood, and she was surprised by the certainty in his voice.

“Why?” she asked. She hoped that asking him this, that trying to understand him a little better, might help with some of her worries about telling him the truth. Or it would reassure her that she had made the right call, no matter how bad keeping secrets made her feel. But one way or the other, she’d finally know. Ironwood took a long moment to gather his thoughts, and then he spoke.

“Ozpin… kept the truth from all but a select group of people. Glynda, Team STRQ, the other headmasters, me. He trusted us with his knowledge, relied upon us to help him in his fight. Our fight. But we weren’t allowed to do the same. Of course, we could always talk to each other, but Oz was firmly against spreading the truth further. No matter how much we trusted friends, family, subordinates, we couldn’t tell them the truth. He always said it was to prevent the spread of panic, to keep our actions in the shadows where we could act against Salem without revealing her existence to the world. I don’t think anything scared him more than the world finding out about her, but… I never figured out why. When I asked him directly, he just deflected.” Ruby resisted pulling a face. She knew all too well why that had been. 

Ironwood continued, still speaking in a soft, level tone that only occasionally became hesitant. “But a secret that big, that heavy… It’s not meant to be carried by so few people. You talked about how it hurt your family, and you saw first hand what it did to Lionheart. I… would be lying if I said keeping that secret hasn’t hurt me, too. The decisions I have to make that I can’t explain, that make me look paranoid or even warmongering in the eyes of a world that doesn’t know the threat I’m really reacting to… It weighs on you, fighting a war people know nothing about.

“And then Beacon fell and the CCT network collapsed, and suddenly I was out of contact with everyone who knew the truth. Oz was missing, I couldn’t contact the other headmasters or Glynda, I had no way to reach Qrow… That was when I realised things couldn’t continue like that. That I had to share the truth, bring in more people that I could trust, because without that network of people who understood the real fight I was almost powerless. Fighting politics, fighting public relations, fighting everything and everyone but the real enemy, because I couldn’t explain myself to anyone.”

“So you told Winter and Penny,” said Ruby. Ironwood nodded.

“And Clover and the AceOps. And it helped. Suddenly, I had allies again. People I could trust, people who could help, people who could carry the burden with me. People who had ideas and theories that I’d never even considered. And that’s when I knew that I couldn’t stop there. There’s that old cliche about how a burden shared -”

“Is a burden halved,” finished Ruby, nodding. “So you think that the more people know, the easier it’ll be for everyone who knows to carry that truth?” 

“Yes,” said Ironwood. “But I don’t want you to think I’m doing this for selfish reasons, to make my own life easier. I’m not trying to pass on the responsibility or make it someone else’s problem. I just… I genuinely believe that we have a better chance of beating Salem if we work together.” Ruby smiled.

“Me too,” she said. “And I didn’t think you were being selfish at all. You’re not a selfish person.” He smiled slightly at that.

“I also think we have a much better chance of beating Salem if we stop letting her dictate the rules of the fight,” he continued. “Ozpin fought her in secret, in the shadows, but that’s where she works best. She thrives on creating fear and chaos and making us blame it on each other. But she can’t do that if the whole world knows she exists. If we drag her out into the light and force her to fight on our terms, then maybe we’ll have a chance of beating her. Because if there’s anything I’ve learned from watching Oz, it’s that his methods don’t work. They’ve failed for centuries. And I’m  _ not _ going to fail the way he did.” Ironwood clenched his fists. “What happened at Beacon is  _ never _ going to happen again.”

“We stopped her at Haven,” said Ruby. 

“You did,” said Ironwood. “And you were able to do that because you knew the truth. Because you knew what was out there in the darkness, and how to fight it. I think everyone else deserves to have that knowledge too.”

“I think so, too,” said Ruby. “I think you’re right.” Ironwood looked up at her, and there was something in his expression that surprised her, a flash of almost desperate relief, like he’d needed to hear someone say that. It faded as quickly as it had appeared, but it was another moment of surprising vulnerability. She hadn’t realised how much someone like Ironwood, who always seemed so sure of himself, could be desperate for the approval of others. She hadn’t realised that he cared about her opinion so much. 

Hesitantly, Ruby imitated Ironwood’s gesture from earlier, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I like your plan, too,” she said. “You, uh, didn’t sell it all that well at first, but what you said just there, the reasons you want to tell people? I understand now.” Ironwood laughed slightly.

“I’m not much of a salesman, am I?” he said. “At least, not off the cuff. I’d have done a lot better if I’d known you were coming and I’d been able to write my speech beforehand.” Ruby giggled. 

“You don’t like public speaking much, do you? I noticed that in the arena. I could tell when you ran out of script and had to start improvising.” Ironwood put a hand to his face and shook his head ruefully.

“Don’t remind me. It’s bad enough that Penny seems to think I need encouragement…”

“She means well.”

“I know. It’s just… you’d think I’d be more comfortable with it by now, after so many years in this job, and as headmaster.”

“Hey, we’re all good at different things,” said Ruby. “I’m no good at speeches when I’ve got a script, but I seem to do okay when I’m making it up as I go along. To tell you the truth, it’s… actually kinda nice, seeing that someone like you finds parts of being a leader hard, too. If you can be bad at speeches and still be a good general, maybe I can be a good team leader even though I’m an awkward dork, hehe” She grinned at Ironwood, who chuckled slightly.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said. “And you are a good team leader, Ruby. I’ve seen you in action in training, and I’m impressed. You were already a good leader during your Vytal Festival matches, and you’ve only gotten better since then.”

“Thanks, sir,” said Ruby, genuinely. Then she sighed, deciding it was time to get back to her original point. “But good leaders share information and I… haven’t been doing that. Not properly. And you’re right, people deserve to know the truth.” Ironwood sighed.

“There’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there? Something about Oz.” Ruby nodded, grimacing slightly. He’d been onto her.

“If you knew we weren’t telling you everything, why didn’t you ask?”

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” Ironwood said. “You… don’t know me very well, and I knew it would take time for you to trust me. I hoped you’d tell me whatever it was eventually.” He pulled a bit of a face. “I certainly gave you plenty of opportunities.”

“Well…” said Ruby, carefully. “You also kinda gave us a lot of reasons not to trust you.”

“What do you mean?” Ironwood was frowning now, clearly not too pleased to hear that. Ruby steeled herself, knowing she was moving onto shakier ground. Everything she’d seen and heard of Ironwood had told her he tended to be rather…  _ prickly _ when it came to criticism. 

“I mean, we saw everything going on in Mantle,” she said. “The troops everywhere, the weakened defenses, the fact that we got arrested for trying to help…” Anticipating his argument, she continued before he could make it. “And I know why things are like that now. I know about the Amity Project, and how you’re worried about Salem’s people being here already, and I get it. I do. But… it’s hard, seeing people suffering like that. I know you think it’s a necessary sacrifice to get the Tower finished quicker, and that that’ll do a lot of good in the long run, but… I can’t see people suffering and not want to help. And… I think maybe there’s a balance that’s better than things are now.”

Ironwood was quiet for a long moment, seemingly digesting what she’d just said. He was still frowning, but he didn’t look angry, so she risked continuing. “And, well, getting arrested really didn’t help. We… got worried. Worried that you wouldn’t listen to us, that you were being paranoid, worried about all sorts of things.” Ironwood sighed.

“I know I’m… not making myself any friends with my approach right now. I know that people disagree with me, even hate me for it. But… if getting Amity operational before Salem’s forces can stop us ends up being the thing that allows us to finally fight back, to truly save this world… How can I worry about what people think about me, or worry about… about the costs along the way when  _ that’s _ what’s at stake?” His voice wobbled slightly on the word ‘costs’, catching in his throat. 

“I get that,” said Ruby. “I really do. But those costs… I still think there’s a better way. One that we can figure out together, if you’ll let us help. Because, uh… some of the things I have to tell you? We had to do a lot of re-thinking when we learned them and you probably will too.”

“I’m not going to like what you have to say, am I?” said Ironwood, a sigh in his voice. 

“No, you won’t,” said Ruby. “I… I guess I should start at the beginning.” She turned slightly so she was facing him a bit better and frowned down at her hands as she tried to sort out what events from that very weird day were actually relevant. “We told you about the train crash, but… there’s a lot that happened afterwards that we didn’t tell you. Ozpin tried to take the lamp from me so he could look after it, but he wouldn’t tell us why he was so worried about who carried it. Oscar managed to take back control of his body for just long enough to tell us that Oz was afraid, afraid that we’d find out what he was hiding. And then he told us -” Ruby stopped, looked over at Ironwood. “You know how the lamp works, right?” He nodded.

“Three questions every hundred years,” he said. “And Oz told us they had all been used up. But they hadn’t, had they?”

“No,” said Ruby. “Oscar told us how to summon the being inside the lamp, the one who answers the questions, by speaking her name. So I did.” She snorted slightly. “I wish I could tell you that a giant floating blue lady was the weirdest thing I saw that day.”

“A… blue lady?” said Ironwood, looking puzzled. 

“Yeah,” said Ruby. “Oz didn’t tell you about Jinn?” Ironwood’s mouth quirked in irritation.

“No, he neglected to mention that part. Probably so that we couldn’t find out about the remaining questions.”

“Yeah. So, uh, giant blue lady, just floating there above the snow. Oh, and time seemed to slow right down to a stop when she appeared, which was  _ really _ weird, too. She told us that she could answer two more questions this century. So, I, uh, I asked her what Oz was hiding.”

“You used one of the questions,” said Ironwood, with dull surprise. Ruby shrugged.

“Oz wasn’t going to tell us on his own. And it’s a good thing we did, because it turns out he was hiding  _ a lot _ . Jinn showed us these visions and told us a story and, uh, it takes a bit of telling.” Ironwood leaned forward, his hands clenched in his lap, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“Tell me.”

So Ruby told him Jinn’s story. She told him about Salem in her tower, about Ozma rescuing her, about how Salem was so upset by Ozma’s death that she went to each of the gods in turn to beg for his life. Ironwood listened intently, not interrupting at all until she got to the part about how the gods made Salem immortal and how she wasn’t able to end her life no matter what she did. He made a small, horrified noise and put a hand to his mouth. 

“She… can’t be killed? I knew she was some kind of immortal, but…  _ nothing _ kills her?” Ruby nodded.

“It gets worse,” she said. Ironwood continued to listen in horrified silence as she described what happened next: the rebellion that Salem created against the gods, the destruction of all of humanity as a punishment, the way she was left alone with nothing but the Grimm for company until sentient life evolved again, and how eventually she became a being of pure destruction after trying to kill herself in the Pools of Grimm. 

“That’s…”

“Tragic,” said Ruby, nodding.

“Hard to comprehend,” finished Ironwood. “You mean to say that this is the  _ second _ time humans have evolved on this planet?”

“Apparently,” said Ruby. “First time for the Faunus, though.” Ironwood scrubbed his hands up and down his face, shaking his head slightly. 

“I still don’t understand how Oz factors into all this,” he said. 

“Jinn told us that next.” Ruby explained about the deal the God of Light made with Ozma, returning him to Remnant in a time after people had evolved again. She explained how he’d sought out Salem, how they’d reunited and decided to become the gods of this new world together. Ironwood looked angry at that, clearly as unimpressed at Oz for going along with that as she had been. Then she talked about how they’d started a family, how their daughters could use magic, and how everything had gone wrong. Ozma’s first death at Salem’s hands, the lives he’d spent trying to forget, the eventual decision to stand against her. And then she told Ironwood about the questions Oz had asked. He sat there in silence for a long minute after that, and she let him, giving him time to process the information.

“So… it’s true,” he said, softly. “She really can’t be killed.”

“Jinn told Oz that he can’t destroy her,” Ruby corrected. “It… it sounds bad, but we’ve talked about it a bit and we think maybe there might be loopholes. Ways to stop her that aren’t destroying. Maybe even someone who isn’t Oz that  _ can _ kill her. But… we don’t know.”

“Jinn didn’t tell you anything else?” Ruby shook her head.

“It seems like she’s pretty specific about only answering the question you asked. Oz wasn’t hiding a way to beat Salem, so she didn’t tell us one. And… we’ve only got one question left.”

“How did Oz react to you learning his secrets like that?” asked Ironwood. “I can’t imagine he was pleased.”

“You can say that again. It’s, uh, it’s actually why he hasn’t talked since the train crash. We asked him whether he actually had a plan to defeat her and he just… disappeared. Admitted that he didn’t and then locked himself inside Oscar’s head and refused to come out.”

“That  _ bastard _ ,” said Ironwood, with feeling, and Ruby was surprised to realise this was the first time she’d heard him actually swear. He punched his metal fist into his other hand and glared down at it, teeth clenched almost in a snarl. Ruby flinched back slightly, but the burst of anger faded as quickly as it had come. “How… how could he keep all this from us? From the people who trusted him?” Ironwood’s voice wobbled, almost breaking, and he turned away from her, hiding his face in his hands. It was the most upset she’d ever heard him sound.

“I don’t know,” she said, softly. “There’s a lot about Oz’s choices that I don’t understand.”

“I thought I knew him,” said Ironwood, still not looking at her. “I served him for years, gave my life to him, and he was hiding  _ so much _ .” 

“My uncle said the same thing,” said Ruby. “He, uh, he actually punched Oz in the face, before he vanished. And then he spent the next few days getting really, really drunk. You… you should maybe talk to him about this. I don’t know if he’s actually doing any better, or if he’s just hiding it better. Maybe you could both help each other.”

“Maybe,” said Ironwood, very softly. He sniffed, hard, and finally turned back to Ruby. He had his face under control again, but his eyes were shiny in that way that eyes got when someone was narrowly avoiding crying. “Do you have anything else to add, or have you finished bringing my world crashing down around me for one evening?” It was a very weak attempt at humour, but she laughed slightly anyway.

“No, that’s me done,” she said. “No more moon-shattering revelations from me. Did I mention that it was the God of Darkness who broke the moon?” Ironwood nodded.

“The fact that that’s a very minor detail in amongst everything else says a lot,” he said. Ruby grinned ruefully.

“Yup,” she said. Ironwood sighed and rubbed his face with his hands again. “I’m sorry that we kept it all from you,” said Ruby, reaching over and touching his shoulder again. “I just… didn’t know if telling you right away was a good idea.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Ironwood, though his hands. “I wouldn’t know what to do with that information either. I  _ don’t _ know what to do with it.”

“Yeah,” said Ruby, sympathetically. “So, uh, now I guess you know what’s been keeping me up at night.” Ironwood gave a small, sharp huff of laughter that sounded almost like it was halfway to a sob. 

“I do. Not that it’s a competition, but I think you win.” That was another feeble attempt at a joke, so Ruby decided to run with it.

“So what do I win?” she asked. Ironwood laughed, and lowered his hands from his face. His expression turned surprisingly genuine.

“My trust,” he said. “You had it already, but… it’s deeper now.”

“But I lied to you.”

“You did, but I understand why, and I appreciate you telling me the truth now. Even if I could have happily gone my entire life without knowing some of the things I’ve learned tonight. I… I’m glad to know that you’ve come to trust me.”

“I do trust you, sir,” she said. “We might not always agree, but I trust you.” He nodded, then the smallest smile touched the corner of his mouth.

“Ruby?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I think this is a circumstance in which you can call me James.” Ruby’s eyebrows shot up. “I mean, it’s the middle of the night, we’re both in our pyjamas, and we’re talking about mutual trust. ‘Sir’ really isn’t necessary.”

“You… want me to use your first name?” Of all the things that had happened this evening, this one was finally the one that she couldn’t process. She wasn’t a student anymore and Ironwood had never been her direct teacher, but she still thought of him in that teacher-encompassing category of adults who might as well not even have first names. And on top of that, he was the general. As far as she knew,  _ everyone _ in Atlas called him ‘sir’. At least, everyone that she’d met so far.

“I do have one,” said Ironwood, a slight look of amusement on his face. “I’d have thought you’d be used to hearing it from your uncle. Or has he been calling me ‘Jimmy’ again?”

“ _ Jimmy _ !” Ruby squeaked, and then burst into a fit of the giggles. This was just  _ too much _ .

“I guess not,” said Ironwood, grinning. “But I mean it, you really don’t always have to call me ‘sir’.” Ruby took a few deep breaths, snorting them out through her nose as she tried to reign in her giggles. After a handful of moments, she was finally able to speak again.

“I guess I can give it a go,” she said, still grinning. “But if I start laughing again, it’s your fault.  _ Jimmy _ .” He snorted.

“I do actually prefer ‘James’. No one other than your uncle has called me Jimmy since I was a student, and he only does it when he’s trying to annoy me.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me,” said Ruby. “He likes nicknames. At least you’re not ‘Pipsqueak’.” Ironwood smiled. 

“I don’t know, I think it fits,” he said. Ruby punched him lightly in the shoulder and he laughed. “Sorry. But what I’m really trying to say is that I want you to be able to feel comfortable around me, Ruby.”

“I do,” she said. “I mean, I’m not sure if I completely did before tonight, but I do now. You’re not as scary when you’re in your pyjamas.”

“Scary?” Ironwood looked a little taken aback by that description.

“You’re like a whole foot taller than me,” Ruby pointed out. “That’s scary to short people.” He laughed. 

“I suppose so.”

“But I don’t really mean that you’re scary,” said Ruby. “Just… a bit intense sometimes.” He pulled a rueful face.

“I’ll grant you that one,” he said. “But not so much in my pyjamas?”

“Nope,” said Ruby, grinning. “Especially because they’re the Academy ones. I didn’t think teachers wore those, and especially not the headmaster.”

“I guess I’ve always felt more comfortable in a uniform,” said Ironwood, shrugging, and once again she noticed that his mechanical shoulder didn’t move in quite the same way as his biological one. She found it interesting, the fact that his prosthetic arm didn’t seem to have been constructed with precise mimicry of biological joints in mind. “That tends to happen when you’ve been a soldier all your life.”

“You joined the military right after you graduated?” she asked, taking the opportunity to learn a little bit more about his past. He nodded.

“I never wanted to do anything else. Training as a Huntsman and then joining up as a Specialist was the best and fastest way to end up in a position where I could genuinely protect people.”

“That’s why I want to be a Huntress, too,” said Ruby. “It sounds a bit silly, but… I always wanted to be like the heroes in the fairytales.” Ironwood smiled gently.

“That doesn’t sound silly at all,” he said. Then he sighed. “It’s a shame that none of the fairytale heroes faced a threat quite like the one we’re facing. It would have been nice to have some past precedent.”

“I mean, you could say that every Huntsman and Huntress who ever lived was fighting the same fight that we are now,” said Ruby. “They just didn’t know it.”

“Maybe they were the lucky ones,” said Ironwood, softly. Ruby frowned.

“You’re not… having second thoughts about telling the people the truth about Salem, are you?” 

“I don’t know,” said Ironwood, pinching the bridge of his nose and staring into the middle distance. “There’s the question of which truth to tell, now. I thought I was going to be telling the people everything about her before. Now I know that’s only a fraction of the real truth,  _ and _ that the real truth is so much worse. Can we really justify telling the world that we’re facing an enemy that can’t be destroyed?”

“I don’t know either,” said Ruby. “I don’t know how the stuff we learned from Jinn changes things. But I do know that your original plan was a good one.” Ironwood looked over at her. “Uniting the world against a common enemy, dragging Salem out of the shadows: both of those are good things. We need to do both of them if we want to have a chance of winning this fight.” She sighed. “But… the rest of it? Maybe we have to keep that to ourselves for now. I know you don’t like keeping secrets, and I know that keeping this one within our group is exactly what Ozpin did, but I think it’s what we have to do.”

“You’re probably right,” said Ironwood, heavily. “I still don’t like it, though.” 

“No arguments here. But maybe together we’ll figure out a real way to beat Salem, and then we can tell the world about that.”

“I hope so,” said Ironwood. “But I just… The idea that she can’t be destroyed…”

“I know. But loopholes! Fairytale curses always have loopholes, so maybe this one does too.” She paused for a second. “But I’m still going to shoot her in her stupid, evil face one day,” she continued. “It might not do anything to her, but it’ll make me feel better.” Ironwood laughed slightly.

“You may have to get in line,” he said. Ruby grinned. “Although…” he continued, frowning. “You actually know what she looks like. I don’t even know that. All these years fighting an enemy, and I’ve never even seen her face. It’s a strange thought.”

“Really?” said Ruby, but then she remembered that she’d had no idea what Salem looked like either, not until Emerald’s illusion at Haven and then the visions from Jinn. She had an idea. “Here, let me try something.” She pulled her Scroll out of her pants pocket and swiped until she found a basic drawing app. A minute or two of intense scribbling later, during which she realised she was sticking her tongue out in concentration, she held up her Scroll so that Ironwood could see her best rendition of a stick-figure Salem. “Ta-dah!” she said. Ironwood smiled slightly. “I mean, I’m not the best artist ever, but you get the general idea.” 

“I do,” said Ironwood, and he took the Scroll from her hand, staring intently down at the drawing. “She looks like a Grimm.”

“Yeah. All pale and red eyes and a black outfit. I kinda wonder if she thinks of herself as one of them. Like, does she think of herself as a monster?”

“From everything Jinn told you, it doesn’t sound like she’s one for self-reflection,” said Ironwood, and Ruby noticed his grip was tightening on her Scroll. “But she is a monster. There’s no doubt about that.” His voice was low, almost dark, and his stare had become laser-like, boring into the drawing as if he could see the real Salem through the holo-screen. His metal hand was shaking ever so slightly as his fingers clenched harder.

“James,” Ruby said, gently, touching his arm. “You’re going to break my Scroll.” Ironwood started slightly, as if she’d broken some spell, and finally looked up and away from the image, relaxing his grip as he did so.

“Sorry,” he said. He took a deep, steadying breath, then smiled slightly. “You called me James.” Ruby shrugged.

“You said I should.”

“I did.” He handed her Scroll back to her, and Ruby resisted the urge to check it for finger-shaped dents. “You might want to keep that drawing for when we tell the others,” he continued, indicating the Scroll. Ruby shook her head. 

“Nah, I’ll get a new one from one of the others. Weiss, maybe; she’s actually good at drawing.” She smiled at Ironwood. “So, we’re telling the others?” Ironwood nodded.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll call a meeting in my office. Winter, Penny, Dr Polendina, the AceOps, Qrow, your team, Jaune’s team, Oscar. All of us.”

“You should include Maria in that meeting, too,” said Ruby. Ironwood frowned.

“Maria?”

“Oh right!” Ruby slapped her forehead with a hand. “You haven’t met her yet! Did we… even tell you that she exists?”

“The name isn’t familiar,” said Ironwood. “So no, I think you forgot to mention her.”

“Maria Calavera is an old lady that we met after the train crash. She… kinda attached herself to our group, and she was there when Jinn showed us her visions. Actually she’s one of the big reasons we made it here alive. Uncle Qrow was… not very reliable for a few days, and it helped having someone who could order him around. Especially when we found out that when she was younger she was the Grimm Reaper.” Ironwood raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“ _ The _ Grimm Reaper?” he asked. “As in the legendary Huntress? The one that Qrow based his weapon on?”

“That’s her,” said Ruby, nodding. “How do you know Uncle Qrow based his weapon on hers?” Ironwood shrugged.

“I’ve known your uncle for years. He’s mentioned it a few times.” He laughed slightly. “I bet that was quite the experience for him, being ordered around by his hero.”

“Well, she wasn’t very impressed with him at first, but I think he grew on her. We all did, although she probably wouldn’t admit it. She’s a bit cranky.”

“But you think she should be at the meeting?”

“Definitely,” said Ruby. “She knows as much as we do, and I think her input would help. She’s a good teacher, too - she’s been telling me about how to use my silver eyes power.”

“Really? How does she know that?”

“She used to have silver eyes too,” said Ruby.

“Used to?”

“One of Salem’s minions blinded her with a sword,” she explained. Ironwood winced. “That’s why she was travelling to Atlas - to visit Dr Polendina and get her mechanical eyes fixed.”

“So you stole an airship  _ and _ smuggled an old lady across a closed border,” said Ironwood, drily, but she could see a suppressed smile in his eyes. 

“She  _ flew _ the airship,” said Ruby. Ironwood shook his head, amused.

“Well, if she’s one of your co-conspirators then I guess she should be included tomorrow.” He counted briefly on his fingers. “Nineteen people, including you and me. Nineteen people who’ll know the full truth about Oz and Salem.”

“It’s a start,” said Ruby. “And I’m sure between all of us we can figure out what to tell everyone else.” Ironwood nodded, and then Ruby remembered something. “I, uh, should probably tell the others that I’ve told you before the meeting tomorrow. They said they’d follow my lead, but I want to give them a heads up.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Ironwood. 

“And I really do think you should talk to Uncle Qrow,” said Ruby, nudging Ironwood slightly. “Before or after the big meeting. He’s the only other person who knew Ozpin as well as you did, and I feel kinda bad that my decision to keep everything a secret meant he couldn’t talk to you about how he’s been feeling. Plus, you know, friends are good, and it doesn’t look like either of you have a lot of them.” Ironwood huffed a small, rueful laugh. 

“You might be right there. And yes, I am planning to talk to him. Good friends are hard to come by, and we’ve had our differences...” He laughed again. “Quite a few of them, actually, but I do consider him a friend.” There was something warm and gentle in his voice as he said that, and Ruby smiled. 

“Good,” she said. “I, uh, I know it’s kinda weird because you’re old enough to be my dad, but I hope we’re friends too.” Ironwood put his hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly.

“We are,” he said. Ruby smiled back, pleased, and then stifled a yawn that went on for quite some time. “I think sleep has finally caught up with you,” commented Ironwood. He let his hand fall away from her shoulder as she stood up and stretched.

“Yeah,” she said. “What about you?” He shook his head. 

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” he said. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I am glad you told me. Although… no more surprises, alright? I’m not sure I could take it...”

“I’ll do my best,” said Ruby. “And… I’m sorry I waited so long. And that we lied to you at first.” Ironwood sighed, and then stood up too, walking over to the railing at the edge of the balcony and leaning on it, staring out across the city.

“You were doing what you thought was right,” he said, softly. “That’s… that’s all any of us can do right now.” He looked so alone, standing there silhouetted against the lights of the city. Ruby joined him at the railing.

“Hey,” she said. He looked over, turning slightly to face her, and she could see the bone-deep weariness behind his eyes. “We can be there for each other, too.” She hugged him then. It was a sudden impulse, one she hadn’t expected, but it felt right. Her eyebrows shot up and she almost gasped in surprise when she felt the hard metal edges and angular surfaces of his spine and right side under her arms (had the  _ entire _ right side of his torso been reconstructed?), but she still squeezed him tightly around the waist and rested her head on his chest. 

Ironwood initially reacted to the hug by freezing in surprise, but after a few seconds he unstiffened and put first one and then the other arm around her shoulders, gently squeezing her back.

“Yes,” he said, softly, and she felt the rumble of his deep voice through his chest. “We can.” They stood like that for a long minute, and Ruby was surprised to realise just how much she had needed this herself. There was something about Ironwood, something about his solid presence and his gentle encouragement that felt very fatherly. And Ruby tried not to think about it too much, but she missed her dad. She tried even harder not to think about how she missed the days when Uncle Qrow was supporting her and not the other way around. There was a little bit of that with Ironwood, but with him it felt more mutual. She’d hugged him to comfort him, but he’d initiated this whole conversation because he was worried about her. That… meant more than she’d realised.

Eventually, Ironwood’s arms loosened around her shoulders, and Ruby took that as her cue to let go. She gave him one more quick squeeze, and then stepped back and smiled up at him. 

“Thank you for talking to me tonight,” she said. “It helped a lot.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Ironwood. “Thank  _ you _ for trusting me. It’s… going to take some time to process everything, but we can move forward together now.” Ruby nodded.

“We can.” She yawned again, covering her mouth with a hand. “I think I should try and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” said Ironwood.

“I hope you manage to get some, too,” she said. “But if not, the coffee’s on me tomorrow.” 

“I’ll take you up on that,” said Ironwood, smiling. “Can you find your way back to the dorms from here?” Ruby nodded. “Well, in that case, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Ruby.”

“Goodnight, James,” she said, giving him one last smile, and then she turned and headed for the stairs, only briefly stopping to retrieve Crescent Rose from the floor next to the bench. Tomorrow was definitely going to be a big day but, for the first time since she’d arrived in Atlas and made the decision to hide things from the general, she felt like she was on the right path. The future might be uncertain, but at least now they’d all be facing it together. Trust could be a very powerful thing.


End file.
